Thin
by BTR'slovesong
Summary: He just wished the pain would go away. Was that too much to ask?


**A/N Ok so I had Skin and Bones by Marianas Trench on repeat tonight. It's a song that kind of scares me, because it's the only song I've found that can actually break me cuz of how closely it touches me. I am so sick of what I have been feeling for the last 12 years. I'm sick of hiding it. I'm sick of hating my body and feeling so ugly and useless. I hate knowing how I'm not good enough for anybody. And the way my so called "friends" treat me have not been helping. I think 12 years of bullying is all a person can take. I've been hiding eating disorders for 12 years. Since I was a little girl. And Josh Ramsey (he wrote Skin and Bones) is right. Keeping it a secret only will make it worse. You guys are my true friends. The fake people who use me and walk on me every day don't deserve to know. But tonight, the secret comes out. I love you guys.**

The worst part was they thought he was okay.

Nobody could simply guess just by looking at him, not even his best friends.

But it was there, the self-hatred. The sorrow, the disgust. He wished and he prayed, however fucked up that was, for a new body. He would literally get on his knees at night and fold his trembling hands, he'd stare up at the heavens and _beg_ God for the new body he knew he'd never receive, and he would feel so guilty about it.

How screwed up does one have to be, to pray to the God who _gave _you the gift of life and gave you that wretched skin and bones that you loathed with every fiber of your being, for a brand new one, a different one?

It was the thought of never being loved that was more than he could take. Because who could love something so ugly? He'd never experience love, or passion, or intimacy. That was only reserved for the beautiful.

It was the little digs, the little comments from everyone around him that pushed him closer to the edge, every day.

It took all he could not to cry when he looked in the mirror in the morning. He had never _hated _something so much in his life. He was just so damn ugly, and he was so sick of his body. He was so sick of what he was forced to stare back at in the mirror. It made him want to vomit, knowing he would have to wear this skin for the rest of his life.

But nobody knew. It had been six long, horrifying years trapped in his own mind, like he was in a purgatory, his own personal hell trying to escape to the happiness that existed around him. But no matter how hard he fought to overcome his debilitating self-image, he was stuck, and he couldn't get out. Not without help. He needed help, he yearned for help. But he was too scared to ask them, even though those guys were like his brothers. He knew James, Carlos and Logan would never judge him, not for a moment. They'd love him regardless, they'd bring him to salvation.

They would save him in a heartbeat.

Yet he just couldn't do it.

It had been six years though, and it was all he could take now. The thought of death crept into the back of his mind all the time, just take it all away. His life, his pain. It would all be gone. No more tears, just peace. Oh how he wanted that. It was such a tempting idea. It was something that followed him around, haunted him for years: Just _kill_ yourself. Get it over with. You're sick in the head, you're ugly, not one person wants you. Not even your friends.

But those thoughts stayed at the back of his mind, because he would never do that. He couldn't leave them. They needed him more than he needed them, so no, he would never kill himself.

He just wished the pain would go away.

Was that so much to ask?

It was another night that he was alone, alone with his thoughts of self-loathing. He gripped the sink, grinding his teeth so roughly that pain shot through his jaw. Knuckles were as white as the porcelain beneath his shaking fingers. His pale, disgusting form was reflected before him in the bathroom mirror. Tears flowed down his ashen face like a cascading waterfall as he stared at himself. The hollow pain of hunger in his stomach was too much to bear.

He didn't want to do this alone anymore.

"I hate you. I hate you so much," Kendall seethed through clenched teeth to the reflection in the mirror. His reflection blinked back dully, just a mask of emotionlessness, even though what Kendall was feeling inside was enough to drive him insane.

"_I fucking hate you!"_ He screamed, so loudly that his throat burned and his voice gave out.

In a terrifying snap, Kendall's self-pity was transformed into anger. Red seeped into his vision and his bones trembled with fury. His mind was cloudy, something else was controlling him. In a fit of rage, he brought his arm back and let his fist collide with the mirror with all of his strength. Dozens of shards of glass exploded around him. The crystalline pieces dug into his fragile skin, splattering blood against his mother's neatly painted bathroom walls.

A scream escaped Kendall's lips and more tears came, his sobs choking him, blinding him. More anger only came, begging to be released. He tore a few random knickknacks off the wall and let them crash to the floor. He punched the wall, tore the shower curtain down rung-by-rung and flung it across the small room.

And then he collapsed, just curled into a ball and cried because it hurt so badly. He didn't want to hide this anymore, he just couldn't. Everything was coming to the surface. It couldn't be kept a secret any longer. He didn't want to be hungry anymore. The pains in his belly, the weakness, the dizziness. It wasn't worth it.

Kendall wrapped his thin arms across his shaking body and pressed his cheek to the cold floor, watching scarlet drops of liquid run off his mangled hand and onto the blue tile.

"I hate you," he whispered one more time before falling asleep, exhausted…

-Pagebreak-

He thought it was a dream, and it was a nice one. He didn't want to wake up.

Strong, warm arms were embracing him, rocking him. Soft kisses were being placed to his temples and for the first time in six years, he felt safe.

He didn't want to wake up. Couldn't he just stay here forever? It was the closest thing to heaven he had ever experienced.

But somebody was calling him, telling him that he had to wake up, and he had to wake up _now_. The voice was deep, tearful, familiar. _Desperate._

Kendall's heart broke for whoever was speaking to him. He blinked his eyes open, bright fluorescent lighting sending shooting pains into his skull.

Hazel eyes stared back at him as he awoke, teardrops like diamonds dripping off of thick black lashes.

Kendall gripped the strong form that held him tightly, ignoring how much his hands hurt.

_James._

"Kendall," James whispered in a broken voice. "Why… Why would you do this, Kendall?"

"I-I'm sorry," Kendall said. It was all he could say. He truly was sorry.

James shook his head.

"No, don't you say you're sorry. Don't you ever say that. _I'm_ sorry," James said, clutching Kendall to his chest and running his fingers through the sweaty blonde hair. Shock and disbelief coursed through James' veins. How could he not see how badly his best friend was hurting? "Why, Kendall? Why?"

"Because," Kendall said with a sob. "I hate me, James. Just help…"

James nodded and held Kendall closer, crying into his hair and planting brotherly kisses to his scalp. "Ok, Kendall. I'm here now, buddy. I'll help you. It's over now."

**A/N Yeah. **

**That was hard.**

**ps, this is not me looking for sympathy, because things have gotten better now. This is all stuff I went through as a teenager. And it just needed to get off my chest, you know? Don't worry about me. It's still hard. I still struggle with it. Some days are harder than others. But I'll be ok. And trust me Josh is right, telling somebody does help. I'm here if you need to talk. I love you guys so much.**


End file.
